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Yeah, that makes sense. I was in Baldy Mesa, between Apple Valley and Phealand(sp?). It was all due to be paved; just a matter of time.
For some the notion that you can never go home is mental thing. Sure, you can go back to your parents house in the town you grew up in with the neighbors that knew you as a kid but... It won't ever be the same.
Me? My family didn't claim a place. We had family in 3 states with roots but we traveled. My parents were truckers and we followed the work. It wasn't until I was 11 years old that we landed where we did.
The winters are harsh here. It makes me long for the desert. It doesn't exist.
The summers are too wet here. It makes me long for the desert. It doesn't exist.
The spring is to dry here. It makes me long for the desert. It doesn't exist.
The fall is too wet here. It makes me long for the desert. It doesn't exist.
The desert is tamed. I have no home to return to.
I've been out towards Apple Valley a few times. BEAUTIFUL area in terms of desert. I can see why you have such strong nostalgia for it
I remember it being the middle of fucking nowhere. And that was the best part. It was 18 months, maybe 2 years of my formative life. The key word being formative. Nothing after my desert has ever made me care to return.
Nothing after my desert has ever made me care to return.
Trust me. I get that. El Monte doesn't look anything like it did when I left, but even with my memories of it, I would never want to return. No part of the San Gabriel Valley looks like it used to, honestly. I prefer to keep my memories locked in that frozen moment. Much like my memories of Portland/Vancouver now. I hate what it has become, and prefer to remember it for the period when I first got there when it was still green and wet and nice.